A Change is Made
by DarthWill3
Summary: This story goes into in the middle of the first movie. How Cera reformed is now being revealed, with ghosts and visions of the future. Based on A Christmas Carol. Featuring Darth Vader in Act II! R&R, please!
1. Act 1: Link By Link

Running for her life, Cera hoped that the Sharptooth wasn't going to be on her tracks now that she woken up. Luckily, she ran fast enough to escape and find a way out of the earthquake gap.

Cera, now inside a dark cave for shelter, began wondering what how things would've gone differently.

"How could I be so stupid?" she huffed, pacing in circles. "Why did I have to wake up that dumb Sharptooth? It's not _my_ fault he survived that fall." Then she stopped. "Maybe I should've brought…"

Cera thought of Littlefoot. The young longneck she met yesterday. He didn't seem bad to her. Neither was his mother. She helped the two children escape from the Sharptooth not too long ago, though she got badly hurt during the battle. Where _was_ she, anyway? Did she and Littlefoot get separated from each other too during the earthquake? He never even told Cera about what happened afterwards when they last met.

Then Cera remember when Littlefoot offered to help her while searched for the Great Valley, but she refused. But now that she woke up the Sharptooth with her carelessness, perhaps Littlefoot would've talked her out of it or something if he'd come along…

"Nah, who am I _kidding?_" she said, dismissing the thought from her mind. "I don't need any longneck to back me up. Like Daddy said, those flatheads have very small brains. We threehorns hardly need help from anyone. Besides, I can find the Great Valley all on _my_ own."

Then, a cold blast of wind hurled past Cera. She never experienced a breeze like that before. It instantly frozen her entire system within seconds and quickly thawed away.

"Brrr… I might not be able to make it alone with this kind of wind." she shivered. "But at least it's gone now."

There was worst to come. For what seemed to be bright outside the cave, was now covered by darkness. It looked to Cera as if the cave was closing in from behind her, trapping her in an endless night.

"Okay," she said, trying to stay calm. "This is just getting… _weirder._"

Suddenly, she heard something coming from the cave entrance. There was a faint clanking noise outside. It wasn't like any sound she ever heard before. But whatever it was, it began to get louder and louder.

"Uh oh…"

At that instant, Cera knew what that meant. The noise was getting closer. Right in her own direction. She ran, looking for any corner to hide in this cave. Unfortunately, the search went in vain for there was none to be found. She was trapped at a dead end.

"Great!" exclaimed Cera, terrified. "Just _great!_ Why did I choose this cave in the first place?"

Then, she heard the noise closing in, slowly by the second. She couldn't see what the being of that dreadful sound was…

Until right now.

In an instance, a white figure filled in through the darkness and lifted its arms, giving out a ghostly wale that echoed across the cave.

It was the skeleton of a Struthiomimus, wearing some sort of long sheet that would be known as a night gown. On its head was long, white hair, rising up high and wavering wildly like fire. Captive bound and double-ironed around the being was a set of rock-made chains, each ending with a ball that weighed a ton.

Hearing that goblin-like wale, Cera quickly cuddled up against the wall, trembling with fear. "J-j-j-j-just get this done already!" she cried out, stuttering slightly. "What do you want? What do you want with me?"

"Much," said the specter in a long, windy tone.

Cera gulped. "Who… who… who are you?"

"Don't you recognize me?" the specter asked in a little louder and clearer range.

"No."

"In life… I was your father's business partner, Mako Loanshark."

Cera was startled to hear that name. Could it be? No, it was impossible. She and her family were there at Mako's funeral, about three months ago. There was no way he could have just rise from the grave and roam free as a ghost.

But it was hard to deny such an existence. The ghost had Mako's voice, Mako's size, and even Mako's blue eyes, which were glowing from the skull's sockets.

"Mako?" Cera inquired, meekly. She started walking up to the ghost with caution. "Mako? Is it… really _you?_"

"Yes, my dear Cera. It is I," replied the ghost in the gentle voice Cera often heard from him when he was alive. "Do not be frightened. I have no intention of harming you, nor would I have done any as I had lived."

"I… I… I don't understand," Cera put in, now choosing the question carefully. "Why are you here _now_? How's it possible? I mean, you've been dead for three long months."

"Yes…" Mako began to moan, almost as if he was going to cry. "Three _dreadful_ months I have suffered after death. Not one shred of rest or peace has been given to me. Not once have I looked back on the deeds I have wrought while working with your father. Of the greed I have grown inside me. The misery I have placed on others. I can never forgive myself for those things."

Cera was taken aback. "But… but Daddy said you made some pretty smart ideas for everyone, Mako. You were an icon, a hero, a real…"

"No!" Mako bellowed, furiously. Throughout most of her life, Cera had believed he had done his work out of charity. "I was _wrong!_"

Cera, shaken and confused from the outburst, observed Mako placing his hands on the set of coils that covered him. "And so," he continued, "as punishment, I am forced to wear and carry these heavy chains I forged in life for all eternity!"

"Gee," said Cera, softening up a bit. "I'm sorry that… things aren't going well, Mako…"

Then suddenly, she let a shriek as one of the chains coiled around her and brought her towards Mako in midair.

"Just look at me," moaned Mako, covering his face with his hands. "I'm doomed! _Doomed!_" His voice then changed in a more scornful tone as he pointed his right index finger at the young threehorn. "And the same thing will happen to _you,_ Cera Jessica Parker Threehorn!"

"M-m-_me?_" stuttered Cera, her heart beat in a quicker pace from terror. "But… what did _I_ do?"

After a four second pause, Mako chuckled under his breath. "Just like your father, I see," he said, half-mockingly. "Even if I _told_ you, you wouldn't believe me for a second. So you will just have to find out on your own, one way or the other."

Then, he motioned the chain holding Cera to lower her down to the ground gently so that she may land on her feet.

"Hear me, Cera," he spoke in a stern voice, "I am simply here to warn you that you still the slightest chance to escape my fate. You will be taken into some visions of the future."

_Future?_ Cera couldn't believe what Mako was talking about. He must be joking.

"Um…" she said, trying to get her out of the situation, "I think I may have already had enough magic for one day."

"Indeed," replied Mako, "which is why you shall meet your host… _tomorrow._"

"But can't I just have this guy here now and get it done with?"

"Learn from what these shadows will show you," Mako continued, casting aside Cera's suggestion. "Do as what your host will say. Or your chains will be – in your kind's case, three times bigger – longer, and _heavier_ than mine."

Cera shuttered to even think about what would happen and before she realized it, Mako had gone, with the sound of his dragging chains heading towards the cave entrance.

"Mako, wait!" Cera rushed outside as the darkness vanished into thin air. "Don't leave me! I'll be all alone!"

"_You will never _be_ alone!"_ called Mako's voice from above. _"Just remember what has happened between us! The two of you will meet when the time…is right."_

Silence fell. Not a sound of clanking to be heard any longer.

Cera was beginning to wonder what host she would soon encounter when a big roar ran through her ears. She recognized it almost immediately.

_Sharptooth!_ She was so scared that she ran as fast as her feet could carry her. That monster must have been about a mile away from her by now. How could he have gotten out of that big ravine by himself? That didn't matter because what concerned Cera the most was to get out of here.

* * *

When Cera caught up with Littlefoot, she warned him about the Sharptooth, but he refused to believe that the beast was still alive. She was about to tell him about Mako's ghost when a thought came into her mind. What was she _thinking?_ Littlefoot would think she was out of her mind. So in order keep prevent any self-embarrassing, she decided to keep this to herself.

Afterwards, the young dinosaurs set off to find the Great Valley. Cera was really not into any introductions with the swimmer Ducky, Petrie the invalid flyer, and the recently hatched spiketail Spike, whom Ducky found when Cera had catapulted her by accident. She was deep in thought about her little encounter with Mako Loanshark.

Was it _real?_ Could Cera have been seeing things? Did the fear from Sharptooth's awakening cause this to happen? Or was it some memories of Mako that made it appear to her? She really didn't know how to put this.

But there was one answer to see whether or not it really happened: the appearance of the host who would show the future. Cera was to meet him, or her, by the next day. "When the time is right" were Mako's last words before he left. By now, Cera was not so sure if she wanted to go through with this…


	2. Act 2, Scene 1: The Dark Host Approaches

A day and a few hours had past since she and Littlefoot met their new companions and Cera just couldn't understand the events of what has happened this day. She was just lying down in the caves which had a nearby waterfall, sobbing it all out. How did everything seem to fall apart? She looked back on this morning and these last few hours.

* * *

It all happened this morning. Littlefoot, Cera, Ducky, Petrie, and Spike have narrowly escaped the Sharptooth, whom happened to have attacked their resting spot. Ever since then, Cera's issues with Littlefoot grew tense. _"Nobody's safe with_ you,_"_she spat at him. She hadn't meant any of that, to be honest. She hated when her warning had been ignored. One way or the other, she thought, things would have to show themselves eventually.

A few moments after that, when the children found that what might have been the Great Valley was just a circled landscape, Cera had had enough. When she decided that she was going take the easier route alone, Littlefoot tried to correct her to what his late mother had told him, hours before her unfortunate fate. _"Then,_ she _was a stupid longneck too."_Cera didn't mean that, either. She was just angry with Littlefoot for not listening to her yesterday.

Cera's comment, however, made Littlefoot attack her in a blind rage, which started a fight between the two. Even though he was no match for Cera because he didn't have her fighting experience, she really had to give him credit for pick a scuffle with her.

When Cera started leaving Littlefoot after the fight, even if she had won a physical victory, the words he had shouted at her have dealt several blows into her heart: _"We never wanted you with us_ anyway!_"_It was like Littlefoot had shown his true feelings towards her or something. Did she really deserve this? To be rejected? Hated? Shown without compassion? However, she used her pride to hide these true facial expressions, as if nothing had happened.

A few hours later, as Ducky, Petrie, and Spike started following Cera for the easiest, less exhausting way, it turned out to be dangerous because of the volcanic activity and the tar pits nearby. Things got worse in a few details: one, when Spike's usually inescapable hunger for nearby food got him and Ducky separated from the others; two, when Cera jumped over a tar pit with Petrie on her back, to which the force of the leap made Petrie slip and, because of his inability to fly, fall into the tar below. The problem was that she didn't even notice what had happened. _Why_she was unable to sense this, it was hard to say.

By the time Cera realized the others were gone when she arrived at the caves, she panicked. She didn't know how to solve this unfortunate turn of events. When she made up her mind to go back and look for the others, a trio of _Pachycephalosaurus,_known as "domeheads," saw a chance for target practice and ambushed her. Cera ran for dear life, as the domeheads began toying with her in an aggressive manner. She cried for help, but it seemed that her calls wouldn't be heard for miles.

Then, it happened. The domeheads had Cera trapped and just when they were about to continue their sadistic exercise, what they had seen made them retreat out of the caves for good. Cera, however, never saw the dark, mysteriously horrifying creature before. It was as tall as those domeheads and looked slimy all around. At that moment, a thought came into her head. Was this creature the host of which Mako Loanshark had told her to expect? The host that would take her into the future? Was the time _right?_It was too terrifying for her to ask that creature about it. She started crying out for her companions, even if she thought it was becoming useless.

At last, the realization came to her. It wasn't actually a monster. Under all that was revealed to be tar was Ducky, Spike, and Petrie, and… Littlefoot? She was glad to see them all in one piece, but Littlefoot's presence was really a surprise to Cera. She didn't expect _him_to come to her rescue. After all their arguments, did he just come up with this tar monster idea to save her? Was he willing to make amend with her?

Then, what Cera heard made her believe that she got all her hopes up. They were laughing at her. _Laughing._ So this was Littlefoot's plan all along? To make her feel humiliated by scaring her? To take revenge for all her arrogant ways? Her heart was dealing more blows than it could take. Did the others find out about her encounter with Mako? No, she thought, that was impossible. She never even spoke a word of this to _anyone._But whatever she may think, she knew that she had gone too far.

Once again, she left, too proud to admit that she gone the wrong way or to show her hurt feelings. She went down near the waterfall, which muffled the sound of her sobbing from the ears of her companions. This time, she was all alone.

* * *

"What's come over me?" Cera whimpered to herself. "Why was I so stupid? Well… I guess this is how I'm gonna live." Then, she went into a dreamless, tormented sleep.

However, that was all about to change. As the moon stood in the middle of the night sky, which stood for midnight, Cera woke up as the sound of the rushing waterfall fell silent. This was a bit odd for something like that to happen.

"Well," said Cera, "at least I could get a better beauty sleep." But before she could lie down, a familiar voice had blown through her like wind.

_"When the time is right…"_

"Mako?" Cera was so taken aback by this, that she couldn't speak another word.

In an instant, everything went black, like the day before in the previous cave, only much blacker. And a stream of violet mist hovered around Cera's feet. It had some sort of power that made her feel good. Yet, as she realized what that power held, she turned away from it. She didn't like this. Not one bit. The mist was filled with fear. Then, fear went into anger. Anger into hate. Hate into… _suffering._

Suddenly, Cera's heart skipped a heartbeat as she heard something that sounded like… breathing. But it wasn't like any breathing she had ever listened to. It was hard. Heavy. Labored. Forced. Quite _unnatural._And it was coming right from behind her. There was no denying that whatever was making that breathing was standing before her, so she turned around and prepared for the worst.

Slowly, but surely, Cera nervously looked up and saw, two feet from her, the darkest, strangest, most terrifying image she had ever experienced in her life.

The figure, while in a violet aura the mist that set him from the darkness, was covered in some sort of black armor from top to bottom, donning long boots made from strong armor, gloves made with a unique iron, a belt with three boxes around its front, a floor-length heavy cape, a hermetic collar around his neck, and a shiny, metal fish-faced, short snout mask covering his face, with a helmet coupled on top to hide the rest of the head. On his chest was a breath repertory control panel, which directed the being's breathing to the mask so it could pass through, but Cera wasn't aware of this. Hanging on the figure's belt was some type of tool and so far as she was concerned, Cera didn't bother to ask about it.

"Cera Jessica Parker Threehorn, I would presume…" the haunting image spoke in a very low, but steady voice. Cera was surprised to see that the "mouth" of the mask wasn't moving, but what she didn't realize was that the voice was coming from _inside_the mask.

Shivering, Cera backed up a tiny bit and tried to speak calmly. "Are… are you the guy that Mako told me to see?"

"Yes," the specter replied and with that, he walked to the nearest cave wall, still speaking, "And now we must move on. The future awaits you."

"But… but… how can anyone find a way into the future?" Cera asked, still a little shaken from what was to come. "That can't really happen! I-i-it's _impossible!_"

The dark figure stopped next to the wall, still facing it, and turned his head towards Cera for a few seconds. "And who, pray tell me, gave you this unproven drivel?"

_What's "drivel?"_Cera sniffed indignantly. "My father, if you must know," she answered, proudly.

"Then, _he_ is an ignorant, arrogant, pompous, overly critical, and _stupid_threehorn as well."

"Hey!" said Cera, furiously. "You can't just talk like that about my…"

She stopped, remembering her recent comment on Littlefoot and his mother. Regret began dragging her back down in her place.

"There are times when the truth can be painful," the specter put in. "I can only hope that you will remember and accept that… _child._"

Cera, with the specter's words weighing her down, said nothing and nodded.

The specter unhooked his tool, pressed his gloved thumb on a button and, to Cera's surprise, a blade of red light emitted from the tool's emitter. Then, he drove the blade into the wall, carved a large circle of three meter wide and two meters high down to the ground, and deactivated the weapon.

Cera realized that not only this figure was a spirit of the future. He _was_the future.

Then suddenly, another surprise came to her as light shined in the circle. The specter stepped inside it and turned to Cera.

"Come with me," he said, without the slightest sound of command in his voice.

Cera, no longer feeling uncertain, complied and followed the specter to whatever lay ahead. _Well,_ she thought, _here goes nothing._


	3. Act 2, Scene 2: The Pain of Loss

As the two arrived to their first destination in seconds, Cera followed the spirit out of the portal before it disappeared from behind them.

She looked around to see that they were a more mountainous location. She never saw a place like this before. There were so many rock formations that they would have been difficult to climb, for someone of her size. It must have taken a long time to change the conditions of these beauties.

"Wow," she said in disbelief and bewilderment. "_This_ is the future?"

"Yes," replied the dark specter in a more uninterested way, seeing that he may have been familiar with these types of geology. "More appropriately, this is the _near_ future."

Cera was confused by this statement. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"This is where the events will happen in the next few hours, when the bright circle nears its middle point in the sky." The spirit turned around and pointed out his right arm. "Look."

Knowing that there was something important to this, Cera obeyed. She looked behind her and saw, to her surprise, three familiar faces.

There stood Ducky, Petrie, and Spike on top of a cliff, which was above a big pond. The pond looked very deep, since it had a part where the water ran dark. Very dark. As dark as the mysterious specter himself.

Cera was about to call out to the others when the specter spoke up. "Do not try to gain their attention, child," he pointed out. "These are only shadows – visions – of the future. They cannot see, feel, or hear us. We are invisible to them. Now listen."

Cera gave out a faint grunt of disappointment. But, however her shady companion would say to discredit her, she had to respect his wisdom.

She looked at her three _other_ companions, who were looking sorrowfully down from the edge of the cliff onto the pond. Something seemed to be bothering them, but _what?_

Then, she noticed something was missing. Something important. A question started conflicting in her mind: _Where was Littlefoot?_

"You will find him closer than you think," the specter answered.

Cera couldn't believe it. Did this ghost just read her mind? How did he know what she was thinking? Was he psychic or something? However, focusing on the others, she didn't bother to ask.

Suddenly, she heard Ducky, who was talking to Petrie while Spike was waiting to give them a lift up before leaving.

"Oh, Petrie," said Ducky, her eyes slowly welling up with tears. "I cannot believe this has happened… No, no, no. Why? Why did this have to happen? Why did he have to… leave us?"

She held Petrie in a tight embrace as she wept over the young flier's left shoulder. Petrie, hoping not to let the hug squeeze him hard, placed his right claw lightly on Ducky's side for comfort.

"There, there, Ducky," he soothed, fighting back tears. "It be okay. At least, Sharptooth gone and Littlefoot now in… better place."

Cera gasped in an instant as she heard those last two words. She just couldn't believe it.

"Littlefoot… dead?" she cried, her voice starting to crack. "No! How could this happen?"

"I see a sharptooth down below in the pond," the spirit spoke in a grave tone, his head facing toward the three faces. "And a young longneck beside him, both crushed by a large form of rock. If these shadows of the future remain unchanged, the child will give his own life for his friends… taking the creature with him."

"You mean he's… d-d-down _there?_" Cera shuddered, looking at the pond below. "Is this what you're telling me?"

The spirit didn't respond. He just turned his masked head to Cera for a few seconds and back to where he looked.

Cera's eyes were slowly filling up with tears again. But these weren't usual tears. They were tears of when something terrible has happened. Like losing someone. Someone very close to you.

"No… Oh no, no. It… it… it _can't_ be. You can't _die_. Not _now_. You… just can't… _LITTLEFOOT!"_

Her scream sent an echo across the canyons, which was unusual to occur in visions of the future. Then, she just collapsed to the ground, weeping harder than she had ever done.

"You cannot reach him, child," the specter finally responded, almost unsympathetically. "He will soon be at rest."

"No, please," pleaded Cera. "I may have been a jerk to Littlefoot, but… I didn't _want_ him dead. I didn't want _any_ of this to happen."

"What does it matter to you?" the ghost inquired, calmly. "Flatheads are known to have very… small… _brains_…"

Cera turned to the spirit, staring at him in utter disbelief. She realized what this figure… this _creature_… was doing to her. He was mocking her with her own words. But there was nothing she could do about it. She just placed her head down, her tears already on the verge of hitting the ground.

"You will be fortunate," continued the spirit, "that he will not suffer. He will die instantly. It shall be quick… and painless. He has _earned_ that much. Unlike his mother." He paused for a moment. "And unlike… _yours._"

Cera slowly turned her gaze back to the spirit, uttering that one word, _"What?"_

"Your mother is dead, child," the specter explained, unemotionally. "She has caught a sickness for some time. The same sickness that ended the life of Mako Loanshark. She died hours after the earthshake. She now lies buried underneath the dirt of the Mysterious Beyond…"

_No!_ Cera thought as she took this news heavily. _This can't be _happening!_ First Mako… Now Mama too? No! I can't believe it! She's not dead! She's _not!_ Tell me this isn't real!_

"It is useless to hope for things to be different," remarked the spirit, after reading Cera's thoughts. "You would do well as to leave these weak souls to their fates… and decrease the surplus population."

The tears in Cera's eyes grew cold and turned from tears of grief and sorrow to tears of anger and hatred. She placed herself back on her feet and looked at her host with defiance, breathing as heavily as he was.

"You… you _jerk!_" she spat in an outburst. "First you tell me Littlefoot's gonna die… Then you tell me my mother's dead… And now you're telling me that I shouldn't _care?_ You _monster!_ If anyone's gonna die, it should be _you!"_

Suddenly, Cera felt something grab a hold in her neck. She couldn't see it, but it was slowly squeezing the life out of her. She tried desperately with her own front feet to release the grip of this invisible force.

Then, as she laid her eyes on the spirit, she noticed a claw-like gesture in his fingers as he pointed out his right arm towards her. _He_ was the one choking her. _How_ he was able to unleash this sort of power was uncertain to her, but it was simply terrifying.

Finally, after eleven to thirteen seconds, the spirit's fingers relaxed to a normal phase. Cera gasped for breath as she dropped to the ground softly.

"Perhaps, by now," said the specter, "you will learn to beware my _power_, child. It would be best to keep a personal opinion towards someone to yourself, unless you would want to suffer the consequences."

Cera now understood what the ghost meant. If she wasn't careful in what she would say, even though it may be true, she could end up in _major_ trouble. There was no telling what other abilities this masked figure might possess.

But she still couldn't believe that her own mother had died two days ago. And she wasn't there to see it happen. Not to mention being unable to attend to the funeral. Perhaps, she thought, that if she hadn't wondered off, she _would_ have been there for her mother. And perhaps Littlefoot's mother would be still alive and not killed by that Sharptooth. Perhaps Littlefoot would have been better off… without Cera at all.

_Oh, Littlefoot. I'm so sorry…_Cera did her best to fight back more tears as the spirit looked from behind her. As she turned in his direction, another portal had just appeared. She knew what was about to happen.

"Come," the spirit spoke. "There are more visions to visit."

"Haven't we seen enough sadness already?" begged Cera, as she looked back at the crying Ducky, still under Petrie's comfort.

"They would concern someone else. And other people that you may be familiar with…"

Cera sighed with reluctance. "Okay, let's get on with it."

As the two entered the portal, Cera was still deep in thought about how things could have been different. But the specter didn't seem to notice. It was obvious that he was going to show something to her. If this were so, then she would try to prepare herself for whatever may surprise her.


	4. Act 2, Scene 3: Blackened Relief

**A Change is Made: Blackened Relief**

Cera was already depressed to see that the next vision the spirit had taken her was located in a sulky spot.

There was rain everywhere. It was pouring so hard that the dirt was quickly turning into mud.

Oddly enough, Cera and the ghost weren't getting wet. It was possible that the spirit was shielding the two from the rain with some of his dark mysterious power, but Cera didn't seem to care. Her mind was filled with regret and sorrow about what she saw in the previous vision.

In fact, she was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the greenery around her. She didn't realize this, but the vision she was attending at this very moment was the Great Valley.

Then, she noticed three figures walking right past her and the spirit in the rain. She recognized all of them almost instantly.

"Hey," Cera spoke up, utterly startled. "Isn't that Mrs. Miggins? And that guy looks a lot like… Dr. Keanrick? Wait a minute, that's Nurse Janet. What are _they_ doing here?"

"You will know once they have reached their little… meeting place," the specter explained.

Cera might not have known these three very well, but her parents and Mako Loanshark certainly did.

Mrs. Miggins, a middle-aged reddish _Ankylosaurus_ (clubtail), was always a hard worker, even in the days of her youth. She would use her club to make good statues from boulders to make a living. Her husband died some time ago, though she managed to keep on forward alone.

Dr. Keinrick, an elderly blue _Gallimimus_ (longrunner), was a well-respected professor of medical science and coroner. In most days, he would give lectures to his students and show them how to save lives with either operating or strange medicine. He would sometimes operate on the recently deceased to find the mysterious cause of death. His assistant, Nurse Janet, was a bold yellow-green _Dryosaurus_ (smallbeak) who had no complaints on helping the good doctor with bloody tasks.

Cera would see the stonecutter, the doctor, and the nurse from time to time having conversations with her parents and Mako, usually on business affairs. They were all there at Mako's funeral and, as Cera recalled, they didn't look _completely_ saddened by the _Struthiomimus_' death. Especially Jubs.

Jubs was a local bartender who would sell drinks and other pleasures wherever the herd went off to and set up shop wherever they stopped. He would occasionally be working at a newly located cantina at nighttime and Mrs. Miggins, Dr. Keanrich, and Nurse Janet often stopped by in those hours.

"Well, wherever those guys are going," mumbled Cera, "I'm sure Jubs won't be far away."

"Follow me," said the ghost, "and you shall see where they will stop at."

* * *

After walking about a couple of yards, the spirit led Cera towards a huge cave. And this was where the three associates had stopped.

After a few seconds, a red, strong _Hypsilophodon_ (runner) guard poked his head out and locked eyes on the three visitors.

"Ach, you've arrived just in time," the guard spoke, rolling his r's. "Jubs is waitin' for ye. Is it true that the wee one is pushin' on flowers?"

"Certainly so, my dear Willie," replied Doctor Keanrick. "We're here to… _prepare_ ourselves for tomorrow's big event."

"Aye, that ye have," agreed Willie, chuckling. "Come on right in."

After he let the associates inside, the guard returned to his duty. Cera was confused by the terms "pushing on flowers," but she didn't even bother to ask the dark spirit.

"Remember that these are but shadows of the things that will be," reminded the specter. "So there will be no trouble of listening to what others would say without exposing ourselves. Come."

Reluctant to eavesdrop on someone else's own conversation, Cera had no choice but to comply with the spirit. They walked past Willy and followed the associates into the cave, where Jubs was busy at work.

* * *

Jubs' cantina was filled with patrons of all kinds of dinosaurs, save for longnecks because of comparing their size to the cave. There were hot springs, gambling games, music, and beautiful waitresses serving the costumers with drinks made of tree sweats, which would be known in _civilized_ times as fruit.

There, standing in the bar and waiting for the associates, was old Jubs himself. He was an orange and green striped _Tapejara_, which was a crest-headed flier, and was still the same plumb cantina owner as Cera remembered. He really meant well, for one of his kind. Of course, he never flew around all that much. Ever since he grew older and gained all that weight, he could only fly four to five feet about the ground anyway. But that didn't stop him from making business.

"Well," exclaimed Jubs in a hard and fast voice, as his three associates approached him, "if it isn't my old time partners-in-crime! How's our little… _angel_ doing well today?"

"Dead," replied Mrs. Miggins, smugly. "Dead and still as a rock."

"Yeah," agreed Nurse Janet, nodded. "I thought that brat would _never_ die… so _soon,_ that is."

Jubs turned to Dr. Keanrick. "Say, Doc. You're the one who found the cause of death. Tell us all about it."

"I have taken the liberty," explained the _Gallimimus_, "of operating on the… _poor_ child. As I looked in, I found and examined an entirely empty digestive system, indicating that she had died of starvation only about a week ago."

"Hmm," pondered Bubs. "Her old man always made me lose my appetite. Thank goodness her passing put a stop to that old family tradition."

All four associates chuckled slightly.

Cera listened very carefully and took this all in thought. The spirit was obviously aware of this, but the threehorn didn't seem to care.

"I don't understand," she said at last. "I just don't get it. Isn't there any respect for the dead around this place?"

"You have seen grief and sorrow connected with death," answered the spirit, calmly. "Now you will learn the exact opposites of those feelings. There are hardly things more petty and pathetic than lowly-lived scum throughout this world."

"Shouldn't we be leaving now?" pleaded Cera. "I don't think I want to see anymore of this."

"You must see things for what they really are." The ghost was once again in a tutorial mood. "Also, there are things you will need to know from this conversation."

Cera sighed and listened to the associates once more.

"I mean," spoke Jubs, "this is gonna be one funeral I can't afford to miss. After all, we were always close to that old windbag."

"I can't help but wonder," put in Mrs. Miggins, "how cheap the gig will be. Not that much, I suppose."

"Well," shrugged Dr. Keanrich, "when things come, you've got to go, I suppose. I just don't have the heart to tell that to the… _dear _father."

"Speaking of hearts," smirked Nurse Janet, "that brat won't need one to have a care about where she'll be going, I daresay!"

As the four laughed loudly, Jubs passed on a drink of pressed tree sweets just for each of them. He raised his cup high for a toast.

"Here's justice for us all, then!" he jeered. "She gave us a lot of headaches when she was alive and by tomorrow, we'll be dancing in her grave!"

Cera winced intensely, hoping this terrible laughter would die out. How could anyone cheer for the death of a child? It was like seeing the vision of Littlefoot's death all over again! It made her _sick._

"Now, child," spoke the specter, "have you learned anything from this lesson?"

"I… I think so," replied Cera, sadly. "This girl, this kid… must have been just as bad as me. My life is like hers… even _now_." Then, she gave the spirit a puzzled look. "But who are they talking about, anyway? Mako's death was three months ago and my mother just died… who _is_ this kid?"

"You shall find out on our final destination." After the spirit spoke, another portal opened in front of them and as they entered, Cera kept her eyes on Jubs and the others drinking until it was all blank white.

_Final destination, huh? Can't say I'm gonna enjoy this, but it'll be worth the trouble finding out the whole mystery._


	5. Act 2, Scene 4: A New Light

The portal came to the very location, which was around three to four tenths of a mile from Jubs' cantina. Cera and the spirit exited the gaping time hole and stood there until it was out of sight.

It was night again and the dark clouds had hardly lightened up. It had stopped raining. Not a single drop of water in sight was seen, though Cera could tell from the ground that it was still wet. Fog lay everywhere. She couldn't see anything, except her feet and the spirit's dark shape. She still heard his breathing, which was completely uncomfortable to her.

"Where are we?" asked Cera.

"We may have missed the girl's funeral," replied the ghost in his usual stern, but toneless voice, "but we arrived just in time for the burial proceedings."

The fog slowly lifted. Cera barely managed to look ahead when she saw two figures five meters ahead of her. One was a swimmer, the other an _Oviraptor_ (fast runner). Judging by the constant movements, they were working on something on the ground. Cera looked much closer and recognized a horrifying feature that she had not seen in three months.

It was a burial bed. A recently dead sentient's resting place. Much like the one where Mako Loanshark had been laid to rest, only smaller. Someone was now taking a dirt bath. There was a slab about four feet tall, set up as a tombstone.

"Okay, Joe," said the swimmer in his gruff voice. "I think that'll do. Is the dirt flat enough?"

"Sure is, Harry," replied the fast runner. "A couple of days or so and grass'll be takin' over this joint, if you know what I mean."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I get yer drift," he sighed. "And good riddance to her, too."

"C'mon. Give her a break, man. She was just a kid."

Harry grunted, and then coldly responded, "Yeah. A kid who had to follow in her old man's footsteps."

Joe pondered for a few seconds. "Hmmm… Good point. Anyway, did you see how many came to this funeral?"

"I sure did, man. About everyone in this valley was there. Imagine that."

"But the majority didn't even _know_ the kid. _Or_ her dad."

"Well, let's consider them lucky that they didn't. Otherwise, they'd have suffered severe boredom and intolerance. We know what _that_ family's like."

"I hear you there, Harry." Joe stretched his arms and legs to get some stiff joints loosened. "By the way, Jubs' holdin' a secret celebration tonight at the cantina. Care to accompany me there?"

"Sure thing, Joe, since I've got nuttin' to do 'round here." Harry gave out a loud yawn. "Let's go."

"Don't worry about the kid," smirked Joe, giving his friend a wink. "_She_ won't be goin' nowheres."

The two laughed loudly as they set off, leaving the mysterious recently made grave alone.

"Go ahead, child," soothed the ghost to Cera. "You wished to know the identity of the deceased, and now you get the opportunity of doing so."

Cera, hesitant for a second or two, went forward a few steps. Then, a bit of uneasiness made her stop and she turned her head back to the spirit.

"Wait a minute," she reasoned, nervously, "before I go any closer… Are these visions we've seen actually gonna happen? Or are they just… _possibilities?_"

A stream of red light came at her and stopped a few centimeters of her head, making her jump. She recognized the energy coming from the dark specter's weapon, which lay in his right hand. Though the mask completely hid his face, Cera could tell that he was _not_ looking happy.

"Don't test my patience," he growled softly.

Startled by this spirit's method of _encouragement_, Cera moved forward very slowly. The blade pointed right in the grave's direction, but she didn't need to be shown twice. She felt as if everything was going to be turned around by this moment. There was no doubt that it was all going to end very soon now, but she couldn't bear to hope for a piece of comfort in her heart.

_Okay,_ she thought. _Here goes nothing…_

She halted just inches from the dirt. Then, she paused, wondering as to whether if the ghost wanted her to dig up the earth with her feet. To see who's rotting corpse was lying underneath her. To come face to face with the stupid little girl, whose death brought so much happiness and relaxation to a few others.

She looked back to the spirit, asking not with words, but expression, to see if this was what he was insisting her to do.

The black phantom raised his pointing blade a little higher. Cera looked in that same direction to see what he meant. It was not the body that needed uncovering. It was the _tombstone._ She did not want wish to aggravate her host as to _what_ was on that thing, so she did as he commanded.

Cautiously, after hearing the blade diminish from behind her as the spirit sheathed his weapon, she moved onto the dirt so as to not sink into it. She stopped in front of the stone, as she looked into her own reflection. She stared very hard and tried to see what she could make of it.

After what seemed to be minutes, she gave out a loud sigh. "This is no good," she said to the spirit, her eyes still fixed on the stone. "I-I can't see what you're trying to tell…"

Suddenly, thunder roared from above. A flash of lightning lit the tombstone from above. In that instant, Cera saw her reflection turn into something else. It lasted only a few about two to three seconds, but she got a full view of what it was.

There stood the skeleton of a threehorn hatchling. Like Mako's ghost, it wore a white gown and was fettered with a set of chains: as described by Mako himself, they were "three times bigger, longer, and heavier" than his. So heavy that this skeleton could barely move at _all_. In the eye sockets lay bright bulbs of emerald green for actual eyes.

Cera gasped, filled with dread. Those were _her_ eyes. That was _her_ skeleton. Those were _her_ chains. And this grave, she now realized, was _her_ grave.

When the apparition vanished, she took fast steps back and looked towards the black specter.

"No!" she cried. "No! No, this can't be reality!"

"I am afraid it _is_," spoke the spirit, his voice slightly booming. "And now…" He raised his arms slowly towards the air. "…prepare to meet your _destiny_."

The clouds boomed with thunder and flared lightning, with a louder and brighter effect.

Suddenly, Cera heard moaning coming from a number of directions: to her right, to her left, in front of her, behind her, and above her. Then it all came clear to her. There were ghosts out there. _More_ ghosts.

Sure enough, the apparitions appeared before her eyes. Much like Mako, they were all walking skeletons in rock-tailed chains and long white robes. However, they were of all different species: longneck, swimmer, threehorn, spiketail, flier, sharptooth, and other kinds.

Cera was now trapped in listening to the past woes of the specters. They were all in her head.

_"I never loved my children."_ That came from a mother.

_ "I never stopped bothering the ladies."_ It sounded like the voice of a gentleman.

_ "I never controlled my bragging and yapping."_ The voice was shrill, but clear enough to be heard.

_ "I never lend a hand."_ This was more of a snore than a moaning.

_ "I never stopped yearning for my brother's throne."_ No doubt that came from a dinosaur of royalty.

_ "I never put an end to my appetite."_ A belching sound followed afterwards.

_ "I never shared my prey."_ Obviously, it was the talk of a sharptooth.

The dark spirit stood in their mist. "Observe and know of their misery, Cera Jessica Parker Threehorn," he said, in a toneless voice. "They now seek to perform deeds of mercy in matters of the living, but have lost the power… _forever._ It is the curse that they bear." He pointed his right index finger to Cera. "For which _you_ shall share with them."

"No!" begged Cera. "_Please,_ no! I'm not that girl anymore! I don't want my life to end like _this!_"

Then, in a flash, six long, huge chains emerged from beneath the burial mound and one of them wrapped Cera in its extremely cold grip, as if it were a snake's tail whose owner would use to strangle its prey. It dragged her swiftly towards its counterparts. She tried to slip away while placing her front feet firmly on the ground, but the chain was too strong for her.

She was lifted into midair as the other chains began making a strange formation. The middle four chains, shorter than the leading and tailing ones, had set themselves into a leg-like stance. The tombstone, in the middle of the chains, was lifted from the ground and all at once, it was like standing like a living four-legged animal. The end of the lead chain was pointing right at Cera as if it had a sort of _stare_ into it.

Cera felt the chains around her transform to cold, leathery coils. She saw herself trapped around the thirty-foot long tail of what would be known today as a dragon.

The tombstone was made into this svelte body, which explained why it was positioned that way. Both the muscular hind legs and their slenderer, but flexible front counterparts had claws that were good on keeping a firm grip while climbing. There was a pair of giant wings on its spiked back, both with a wingspan of thirty-five. They could bring the beast at such a great distance, as long as it had a precise diet. The neck was seven feet shorter than the tail, yet it gave the monster an altitudinal advantage.

As for the head, it bore a long belly dragger-like snout with jagged dentures bearing outside. There was a frill at the back, with two long horns on the forehead and a smaller one on the nose. Most characteristically was a pair of big emerald eyes.

Cera realized now that she was confronting her own dark side. It shattered her to the very core of her being. Throughout all these visions, to make her understand, the dark spirit had turned her from a brave, prideful, headstrong young girl to a scared, feeble, contemptible, _worthless_ little maggot.

He had her _broken._

Then, after a roar, the dragon flung Cera aside with it tail in such great force, sending her flying onto the ground. Cera rolled and bounced like a ball until the momentum had ceased just twenty meters away from the monster. As she looked up, she saw it coming slowly towards her, the steps shaking the ground deeper than that of a sharptooth.

She turned to her left to see the ghost standing, his loud breathing still audible.

"You gotta help me!" she sobbed, water streaming fast down from her eyes onto her cheeks. "I'll try to change! _Honest!_"

"There is no hope trying to save your own life with ridiculous pleas," replied the specter, mercilessly. "You are no match for the power of the dark side."

"I don't _care_ about your power!" Cera was starting to get defiant, yet with sincerity, as the dragon neared ever closely. "I just want to get outta here and make things right again! I'll do it for Daddy, for Mama, for Mako, for Petrie, for Spike, for Ducky…" She choked back a sob before spitting out, "for _Littlefoot!_ Just give me a little more time! Another chance! _Please!_"

Then, the dragon was standing right in front of her. It opened its mouth to let amounts of blue energy fill, little by little, inside. The energy was getting bigger, and bigger, and bigger before it was set as a crackling ball of horrendous lightning.

Cera shut her eyes and prepared herself for the final blow, believing that all was now lost.

Suddenly, she heard the dark ghost activate his weapon and opened her eyes to see him approaching her with tremendous speed. What in blazes was he doing _now?_

Just in time, he blocked Cera's way as the dragon breathed the lightning in their direction. He placed both gloved hands firmly on the weapon and set the blade in an arc, letting it take in the electrifying blue charges. The dragon's power was still launching its firepower, like rain pouring down from clouds, so it would be a while before this beast exhausted itself.

Cera, her tears lessening, couldn't actually _believe_ what she was seeing. After all that this guy had done to her, what he said, he was _defending_ her? Risking his life for her? This didn't make any sense.

However, she saw that he wasn't completely as heartless as she portrayed him to be. There had to be good _somewhere_ inside him. And he had just proved it to her.

After several seconds had past, the spirit had deactivated his weapon, thrust out his arms, and began to deflect most of the lightning with his hands. As he did so, however, he suffered substantial damage inside his suit. He groaned. He winced. He could feel his life-support system malfunctioning. The pain was excruciating, but he managed to hang on and maintain his defense.

Cera watched as her black clad host used his power to create an invisible shield against the lightning in front of her. It was _incredible._ But she wasn't immune to the painful moans he was giving out. She could see his skull highlight and illuminate from inside his helmet, along with what looked like a spinal cord, which had some sort of strange device implanted to it. She felt that she had to do something to help him. But, then again, she wasn't as experienced as he was.

The ghost walked forward, his shield forced even closer to the dragon's mouth. His billowing cloak blocked the sight of the entire body agonizing from the lightning's noticeable side effects, thus sparing Cera further worry.

With all of his strength, he immediately released his grip and the lightning erupted in a burst of white light.

Cera shielded her eyes from the blinding force, unsure of what was going to happen next. But within seconds, there was absolute silence.


	6. Act 2, Scene 5: Another Chance

Cera woke up with a start. She looked around. Her heart raced with such anxiety.

She was back in the cave where she had been sleeping. The waterfall was still there, rushing by nonstop.

The skeletal ghosts were gone. Their wailings were gone. Their chains were gone.

The enormous dragon was gone. Its deadly eyes were gone. Its electrical power was gone.

Most importantly, the dark spirit was gone. His glowing crimson weapon was gone. His masked, cloaked, and armored presence was gone. And his incessant, _haunting_ breathing was gone.

Was this all just a sleep story? Had it been real? Cera couldn't really tell.

As to the masked phantom's knowledge of the death of her mother, she didn't know whether it was all a trick to get her so depressed or not. Then again, she had been aware of her mother's condition for the past few days. Perhaps her fate was inevitable.

Cera lowered her head, eyes shut tight. It _was_ true. Deep down inside, even though she wasn't actually there to witness it, she _knew_ it to be true. Her mother was _gone_.

But other than that, she had learned something very important from what she might have seen last night.

As the apparition of Mako Loanshark had told her two days before, she still had a chance to escape his fate. To escape the _others'_ fates, she now realized. It wasn't too late.

Just then, she noticed a bit of light coming from a creak of the cave.

_Can that be…?_ She didn't want to finish that thought just yet, for she was running up the slope where she had just come down hours before.

She stopped to see the scattered blotches of tar from the pit that Littlefoot, Ducky, Spike, and Petrie had donned near the volcanic landscape to scare the domeheads away from her. She definitely did _not_ want to slip on it again, so she carefully sidestepped it before continuing her way.

There was a bigger glimpse of light coming from Cera's left. She took her chance to see if this was to be an opening to the cave.

As she came closer, she became more excited. She was right. It _was_ a cave entrance.

Once outside, she looked up at the blue sky. The bright circle was just rising up. Even if there were a couple of clouds in the way, she could still see it. It was early morning.

Tears filled her eyes again. This time, they were tears of _joy._ She couldn't have felt any happier in her life.

Yes, she was still alive. Alive to see the light of another day. And the spirits had given her that chance.

_I wish the guys could see this right now,_ she thought._ It's so _beautiful._ Littlefoot would probably want…_

Her mind stopping cold for a few seconds, Cera just suddenly remembered.

"_The events will happen in the next few hours, when the bright circle nears its middle point in the sky."_

The words of the black ghost rang in her head. Looking back on what had been said, she started to think clearly. In the next few hours…

_Littlefoot's gonna die! And… and _Sharptooth_ will be there! Oh no! What am I gonna do? What am I gonna _do?_ I just wish I knew where to start and…_

Ceasing her panic, she remembered Littlefoot's words from yesterday.

"_Cera, we have to keep following the Bright Circle."_

Cera's eyes went wide in realization. This answered _everything_ for her problems.

She ran in the aforesaid direction, with a renewed fire in her eyes. It might be a long way ahead to the canyons she'd saw in her vision, but she prayed that it would be worth the journey. She still had time.

_Hang on, Littlefoot! There's no way you'll get killed! Not while _I_ have anything to say about it!_


	7. Act 3, Scene 1: An Altered Future

Cera looked at Littlefoot and Spike and shook her head sadly.

"He was… my friend," sniffed Ducky. "Poor Petrie…"

Cera glanced at the little swimmer and back at the boys. It was best if the fourfooters left her alone for a while.

As she joined Littlefoot and Spike to take a few meters away from the cliff she had seen in her dream, they stopped. Then, she turned away, not allowing the others to look back and see the tears running down her eyes.

This wasn't _supposed_ to happen. If she had arrived a few seconds earlier, if she had been fast enough, if she had stayed with the gang after the tar monster scare, _none_ of this could have occurred. Petrie would still be alive.

* * *

Almost an hour into the afternoon, Cera kept following the trail of the bright circle. It may be a bit hard while climbing through all the rocky hills, but she had to keep going. From what she was seeing, the cliff she saw in her sleep story – or _vision,_ as the case may be – wasn't that far off now.

Then, a distant roar sent a shiver down her spine. She knew too well who made it.

_Sharptooth._

After hearing another roar, Cera now knew which direction the predator was heading. She had to act fast. Littlefoot's life was hanging in the balance.

As she made it to the top of the hill, she looked up at the bright circle. It was slowly moving to the middle of the sky… just as the black ghost had predicted.

Fortunately, she could see everything from her viewpoint. All the features were just as she had seen in her vision. Perhaps that weird adventure last night really _did_ happen, after all.

But whatever wonder Cera had was replaced by fearful realization when she looked down. She spotted a boulder on the edge of a cliff, which was standing over a dark pond. It was a long way down there to make a splash. And that splash had either to be stopped… or _postponed._ Sharptooth's fate was inevitable.

She saw Littlefoot and Spike behind the boulder. It was obvious that they were up to something. Petrie was on a certain rock hole at the left side of the cliff. What would he be _doing_ there? Cera wondered. He couldn't fly.

Suddenly, she heard Sharptooth. She looked to her right and found him exiting a nearby cave. He slipped onto the ground and slid down the slope, hitting the pond face first. Due to his little arms, he couldn't swim, but he was able to avoid the deeper part of the water.

"_Ducky!"_ Cera heard Littlefoot shout.

"_Ducky!"_ That came from Petrie.

Cera's fears grew all the more. Ducky was too small to be seen from her vantage point, but she knew Sharptooth was after the little swimmer.

As she ran down the hill toward her destination, she heard Petrie whistle as if he was signaling for something. Then, she saw what was happening: Littlefoot and Spike were pushing the boulder with their heads. It was too heavy, but they were trying their hardest to make sure it was going to hit Sharptooth's head.

"_Push, Spike!"_ Littlefoot cried out. _"Push with all your might!"_

So _that_ was what they were planning.

Cera touched down a shorter height of the ridge, connecting to the level of ground the boys were on. All she needed to do was run up to them and join in, thus sparing Littlefoot his fate. The trick was getting crossing over the many rocks in her path. They were slippery, but she had to try. It was a good thing she could still see what was happening.

As she crossed the first section, the foundation shook the cliff. She could feel the little tremors from beneath her. Another earthshake?

No, it was Sharptooth. He hit the cliff so hard that the force knocked Petrie out of his hole. Cera couldn't see where he landed, but she knew it couldn't be good. Then again, he was still alive during the vision.

Every rock she crossed was getting increasingly difficult. She could barely keep on her toes in place. At least, she was making fast progress.

Just then, another roar from Sharptooth was heard. Cera saw Petrie rising to the cliff, stopping right behind the boulder. But he wasn't exactly stopping. His wings were flapping. He was floating in midair. He was… _flying?_

"_I'm flying! I'm _FLYIIIIIIING!_"_ he yelled hysterically.

Cera couldn't _believe_ it. Perhaps Sharptooth's roar as well as his breath pumped Petrie's wings to full power or something. She would have to take back calling the little flyer an invalid when they all lived through this.

Sharptooth rammed onto the cliff again. That almost knocked Cera off her feet, as it nearly did to Littlefoot and Spike. But it wasn't stopping her from walking to another rock. She was almost out of the pile now.

Every step she made was making allowed her to see the action a whole lot closer.

Then, Petrie was seen diving toward Sharptooth, whose head Ducky was on after emerging from the water. He grabbed the lid of the monster's right eye, which was a bit sore after that thorn it had received two days ago. Sharptooth lurched back trying, to get the perceived parasite off its head.

Cera reached the last rock and then hopped off. She was finally out of that obstacle. As she moved off, she saw Sharptooth make a great jump up the cliff with his long wings and land onto the boulder…

_Wings?_ Sharptooth didn't have _wings_ before, that Cera was certain. But then, his neck grew longer, followed by his arms, his tail, and his snout. Two horns protruded from his forehead and another from the nose, followed by a frill in the back of the head. Spikes appeared on Sharptooth's back.

Both of the creature's eyes opened. They had turned from red to _emerald._

Cera stood frozen, fear taking over. It wasn't Sharptooth anymore. It was that dragon from her vision. The very dragon that represented everything that was evil about her was back.

Were her eyes tricking her? How was this possible? That creature was destroyed by the masked specter. Or _was_ it?

Ducky joined Littlefoot and Spike in their efforts to push the boulder, but the dragon's weight made things even harder. Petrie was pulling the dragon's left eyelid.

Whatever she might think, Cera knew that she had to face the dragon alone. Her host would not be here to protect her, this time. It was time to put an end to this once and for all.

She ran down the slope, giving out a load shriek, and calling out _"I'M COMIIIIIING!"_

The dragon heard Cera and was completely speechless for a few seconds. That pause would be very costly.

The little threehorn gave it slammed her head into the boulder, giving the gang the momentum they needed.

"_Cera!"_ exclaimed Littlefoot. _"You're back!"_

Of _course,_ she was back. Didn't he realize that she was saving his live?

The dragon tried to get its jaws on Cera, the blue lightening emanating and crackling from inside its mouth, but the surge caused it to jolt. Having Petrie poking its eye wasn't helping it at all, either.

Just then, the end of the cliff gave way. It couldn't take the dragon and boulder's combined weight. As the dragon tried to gain its right foot on the cliff, it slipped, shredding the ground from underneath the kids.

Cera fell, but managed to grab onto the end of the crumbling rock about two meters below just in time; otherwise, she would have been a goner. She jumped and pulled herself up to the top.

Suddenly, she heard a yell coming from below. She, Littlefoot, Spike, and Ducky looked down in horror as the dragon clashed its lightning-blazed teeth on Petrie's right wing, taking him with it into the pond. The monster hit the water on its back and a second later, the boulder crashed into its stomach.

For what sounded like a big splash to Cera looked like an enormous wave of azure energy. It surrounded the gorge in the form of clouds that reached surrounded the gang before sinking back into the pond. It was _incredible._

Cera looked at the others to find that they weren't having raised concerns. It was like they didn't notice Sharptooth changing into that dragon or the explosion.

So it _was_ only in her head. She took an internal breath of relief before looking down to find Petrie.

Seconds passed and all everyone could see emerging from the water were bubbles.

It was painfully ironic to Cera. She saw what was going to happen in the future, but she didn't see that the consequences of changing it would not bring satisfactory answers.

* * *

_No,_ Cera thought as she whimpered silently. _No, this isn't right. I saved Littlefoot… just to let Petrie die instead?! Why couldn't that stupid flyer just get out of the way?! _

She didn't want to think how Petrie's mother, two brothers, and one sister would take it when they heard about what happened to him. He mentioned them at least once during the trip, though she didn't pay much attention.

Maybe she could echo a few of the dark phantom's words on what he said about Littlefoot's would-have-been fate, but in a lighter way. _He didn't suffer,_ she practiced, mentally. _He just learned how to fly and… he died a hero. I'm sorry I wasn't able to…_

"STOP!"

Cera snapped out of her thoughts instantly. Her eyes widened. That voice… Could it be?

"You go without… Petrie?"

Littlefoot and Spike turned their heads around, almost a second after Cera. There stood a young, brown, and extremely wet flyer at the edge of the cliff, one meter away from Ducky. He dropped on his back, exhausted.

Ducky was so happy, she rushed over to grab her resurfaced friend. "Petrie!" she cried, squeezing him a little too tightly. "You're _safe!_" Cera could notice Ducky's tears of joy as she ran toward her and the others, ranting "Yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep, yep!"

As everyone crowded over Petrie, unable to stop laughing like crazy, Cera felt the immediate guilt inside her rush away. Even if she couldn't stop Petrie from falling into the pond, he was somehow able to get his wing out of Sharptooth's dead mouth all by himself. It was best to ask him later.

Then, Cera remembered another thing she couldn't escape from: her _chains._ Mako Loanshark said he got his own set by greed he held onto in life. She now saw that pride was her sin, mirroring that of her father.

And that crime alone got Littlefoot's mother killed. Changing the future may have made Cera's chains lighter, but they weren't likely to break and disappear forever. The links were still pretty strong.

She couldn't talk to Littlefoot… She didn't have the courage for that. If her mother was still alive, she would talk to her first, as she always did whenever she had big problems.

Moving quietly away from the others, Cera headed toward a large section of rock. For a moment, she thought she see her shadow taking the form of the tall, black spirit, his cape billowing in the wind; his masked face looking to torment her even further.


End file.
